#belidrae

She’d seen a flier for it in the city on one of her extensive shopping trips and in preparation the day before, she’d searched and searched and searched until she found the right dress. The right accessories. The right jewellery. The right shoes. It didn’t have to be society’s version of perfect. It only needed to be Belidrae’s version. As she examined herself in the mirror, turning this way and that, she concluded that it was. Appropriate for the venue and a great way, she surmised, of making a striking first impression.

Belidrae had been good at that. Further more, she’d known she was good at that. She had been so aware of it, in fact, that there was no doubting she’d used it to her advantage with her clientele down south. Although she’d not entertained any such ideas upon her return to Quel’Thalas, it was a hard thing not to think about and not to consider when knowing what she was about to leave for and where she was going.

On her way out the door, Belidrae reached for a thin, sheer golden shawl and drew it around her shoulders. Valerron was definitely going to hate it, quite possibly most of all when Belidrae didn’t return until the wee hours of the morning. But life was for living and she’d spent over a year doing quite the opposite. She was going to make use of her ring, of her illusion, and see what the Red Moon had to offer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a beautiful location, both the general vicinity and the interior. It looked just like what she would have expected a place of that calibre to look in the harbour of their very fair city. Well, perhaps a more contemporary version of it, which was good. Needed, even. The sin’dorei—hell, all elves really—were sometimes too stuck on tradition and old ways. There were places for such things, certainly, but clinging onto the past really did more harm than good. If the rest of the world was changing, their people did, too. Otherwise, the world was simply going to move on without them. And the sin’dorei were much too proud to let that happen.

When she’d been let in, Belidrae had taken her time in appreciating the architecture. She made a mental note of various locations. It was immense, really. Incredibly impressive. Perhaps not something she might have anticipated when she was on the outside waiting patiently for entry. One of the first points of interest had been the bar, not far from the stage, and for some moments, she imagined what kinds of shows might have been performed on it. Burlesque, perhaps. Maybe more exotic pieces.

She didn’t linger overlong there, just enough to procure the first Total Eclipse, something she felt was important when taking in the scenery, and to give some polite exchanges with a dark-haired bartender, who she’d overheard the name of, but given the amount of business they were getting, didn’t seem particularly keen on taking too much of his time. She made a note to come back later and perhaps ask a few more questions about the work they did and his own experiences in his time there.

Was it a nice place to work? Looked like it could be. Probably afforded more protections than she’d ever had doing the work she had before her return. Of course, that was the trouble when one was working for themselves rather than a madame or something else of that nature. Belidrae didn’t consider herself to have a long list of impressive talents, but she had, at the very least, known she was good with people. That still hadn’t changed, even if she had a tendency to meddle and annoy others with the way she something prodded her cute little nose into a situation that otherwise didn’t involve her.

She wouldn’t be doing too much of that tonight. She was only here to scope, to survey, to investigate, to meet the people, and perhaps see if it was a place she might like to see more often. Or a place that she’d potentially fit into. And of course, to indulge in some drinks, plenty of which she suspected were going to be paid for with Valerron’s coinpurse.

The views were beautiful, being able to see far out across the water. Belidrae loved that especially, and she didn’t doubt that it was because she had always held some kind of appreciation for it. The sound, the scent, that little kiss of salt on the air and in her hair, making her seem more like a beached golden nymph rather than an elf. A book she’d read when she was quite young had said that those who longed for the sea harboured great turbulence within themselves. She hadn’t thought much of that at the time, but as she grew older, she felt like she resonated with it more.

Maybe more so because of the way that the Void still tore at her mind, even when she put on her best smile and her best act, trying not to seem like the liability that she very well could have been. Discipline, she’d reminded herself. In the Red Moon, there was enough noise to drown out all of those whispers that otherwise tried to tug at her. Between conversation and music, it was exactly what she needed to have some cohesive thought to herself. Say she did decide to work for such a place, or even anything like it. Valerron wouldn’t let her hear the end of it. She could keep it a secret for a time, but that wasn’t going to last forever. Not when she was living in his estate. Especially not if she had her name plastered on something he might see in public.

He could be swayed if he knew she was making her own coin, however, and not spending his. Maybe. Depending on what kind of work she did. She’d never told him about the clients she took on in the south, knowing very well that if she did, he might start to see it as some kind of failing on his part. After all, Belidrae hadn’t exactly done it because she enjoyed it. It had been purely a necessity. She happened to be good at it and she’d been capable of acquiring some fairly impressive coin. There was no reason not to be pragmatic about it. She didn’t hate it. She didn’t love it. It was a means to an end. But that could change, perhaps. Anything could, after all, and nothing ever really stayed the same, whether someone recognised change or not.

As the night drew on, more of her unspoken questions went answered. On the equally impressive showcase stage, it wound up housing beautiful people. Glamorous people. Made her almost think of a few of the higher society functions she’d attended before returning to Quel’Thalas, when she’d observed the fashion trends for her own studies and design projects. Back when she’d thought she might go that route. A shame she wasn’t still doing that in the present, though the only thing stopping her from picking up needle and thread was herself.

And memories. Memories always stopped her. Like she just wasn’t ready yet, and didn’t know if she ever would be again.

The musical pieces weren’t what she thought they would be, which pleasantly surprised her. Classy, elegant, sensual and alluring. She liked it a lot. There were some faces she recognised, having seen them at other galas, though no one she could say she was personally acquainted with. That was sometimes the problem with going to these kinds of things. Belidrae had gone to more and more alone, which meant hours of silence and just listening in on other conversations, occasional compliments on the wear others would have, and rarely any exchanges that lasted more than a few sentences back and forth.

This was definitely not the same thing as those stuffy soirees the Blood Knight Order had sometimes had where she drank and danced to excess, not at all afraid to charm her way into a conversation with one of her brothers’ comrades. Maybe it was just that Belidrae was out of practise when it came to things like that.

As she’d continued her perusal, she eventually found herself examining past crimson curtains that paved way to indulgent cushions and soft rugs. A place of reprieve, perhaps, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the cabaret and bordello. She’d lost count of her drinks, though she suspected she was on her third, given that she’d already started forking over her brother’s money without much hesitance. When giving her feet a chance to rest and regain some endurance before she’d take to more exploration, she made the acquaintance of a strikingly handsome man with the kind of blonde hair she might have described as sandy or ashen. Impeccably dressed was the first observation she’d made of him. ’Xylaes’ he called himself, not terribly shy about talking her up. A very charismatic man who definitely seemed to know the ins and outs. Just speaking with him, Belidrae suspected he’d been with the Red Moon long enough to be comfortable.

She tried not to ask him anything too prying, sticking largely to questions regarding if he enjoyed what he did. What his favourite part was. Some of the stories of memorable experiences he had, if he was willing to part with them. Innocent little things like that. She told him what she had told so many others, things of little importance. That she dabbled in seamstressing, though some had given her the affectionate title of ‘lace mistress.’ That she had a few older brothers who served in the various affiliations that seemed to build their peoples’ foundation.

But as she listened and shared what she felt she could, she found herself spending a fair amount of time trying to make him laugh, thinking a stunning man like him could only be more so when he was doing that. Or smiling. Although considering his work, she suspected that he might have done plenty of that. In the end, he served as a very worthy distraction, and if she hadn’t been on her own personal mission, she easily could have wasted no shortage of hours with him.

A part of her thought he might have been able to do the same, but she knew that was the purpose of the role. Some people were paid to make other people believe whatever they wanted to believe. With that in her own background, she took most of it with a very pleasant grain of salt. When she reluctantly took to her feet once more and admitted she had more to look at, he presented her with a card. With it, a cheeky invitation that he liked companionship outside of his work as well.

Companionship. It’d made her laugh a little. It’d made her bare all of those teeth and flash him that coquettish curl of her mouth before she dipped her head to hide a part of her face beneath the waves of her hair.

He was cute. She’d have to give his offer some consideration, and she thought on it more as she eventually made her way back past the curtains, somehow managing to not lose her footing, though Belidrae had never exactly considered herself the most graceful woman. In fact, she might have been a woman who played at elegance and was really a little bit more clumsy than she would have liked to admit to. Eyeing his card a few moments more, she thought about the other information he’d given her. As she carefully slid it down the front of her dress for safe keeping, she thought of the beautiful woman she’d seen on stage offering introductions.

Arandori. She was the proprietor of this grand establishment, and splendid it was. Maybe she would need some extra hands. On a day where there wasn’t a large opening, on a day when it wasn’t filled to the brim with people, she’d have to reach out and see if perhaps they were in need of another pair of helping hands.

But until then, she could continue nosily prying her way into each and every little delightful morsel that the Red Moon had to offer. More coin to spend. More drinks to have. More late hours to spend until she’d undoubtedly make her way back home to an estate where a Farstrider would be most unimpressed with her conduct. And then she’d flash him the flutter of her dark eyelashes and surely he’d forget all about it. She’d always had him wrapped about her finger.

— @daily-writing-challenge

She was still taking in her appearance when she heard distant footsteps that she scarcely saw fit to pay proper mind to, every curl of yellow blonde hair that assaulted her shoulders and how wonderfully her skin was kissed by the light of the day. It wasn't until she heard his voice that she turned.

"How did y—" Valerron began, but in the fleeting moments passing that recognition set in, he leaned against the door frame. "Shit. Belidrae." Instantly he looked tired, befuddled, and unimpressed all at the same time, folding arms across his chest.

His younger sister put herself on display for him, all shining fabric that hugged her and showed... about as much as she'd often seemed comfortable wearing, never afraid to flaunt the features she thought were the most appealing to the sight. Or simply knowing how to draw the eye.

"Why, brother," she purred out her response, a smirk forming in her mouth as she opened her arms in an over-the-top and lavish welcome, like old habits died hard, though their family hadn't even been a thought in most minds of elven society. "How good to see you home at last. I trust your time on the front lines in K'aresh was successful?" Impish and coy, she slipped her hands behind her back.

"You would know if you—" If she'd actually shown up. Many, many months before he had convinced her to go with him, if only because he wanted to give her a better direction in life. Instead, it'd seemed she had simply chosen to stay in his estate, drinking his wine, spending his money. He couldn't even be surprised because that was how Belidrae had always been. He understood she'd been on the streets for no shortage of time once their parents had bid her away, and he had always held a soft spot for her. Maybe it was just nicer to have her somewhere that he knew she'd be safe.

Shaking his head, he gestured to her, from head to toe, with a gloved hand. "That's not important, but this is. Have the others seen you?" Because the last time they all had, it had been a complete palette shift. If he hadn't seen her with his own eyes, hadn't heard the bizarre way her voice had changed, he might not have believed it. "Am I coming back to a bunch of letters that I'm going to have to issue a bunch of apologies for on your behalf?"

Belidrae feigned shock, lifting a hand and splaying fingertips along her bottom lip, softly painted in a metallic shimmer. "Of course not! I've been on nothing but the best of behaviours." Which was true, shockingly.

Instead of immediately seeking out Kathis and trying to ruin his married life with a fun little ongoing affair, she'd resisted. Sure, she bought no shortage of gowns, hair pieces, assorted jewellery, and other absolutely unnecessary accessories, but that wasn't poor behaviour. It was economical benefit. She hadn't even put herself in the pathway of any galas and soirees, though she'd certainly heard of some that she ordinarily would have gone to and shamelessly drank nights away in favour of the next morning's hangover.

She didn't question why she didn't immediately jump back into that lifestyle. It wasn't that she hadn't liked that. It was very much because she still felt held back by everything that had occurred in the last year and then some. The ring her family had granted her to give to a man who had once claimed to want to marry her and managed to get her to fall in love with him, had made off with it. She was out a heart and a family heirloom. The latter, perhaps, was more easy to obtain.

Could have hired someone to do it for her. She certainly had no intentions to chase him down herself. He didn't want her. He made that clear when he left. She had, ultimately, meant nothing to him and she had been a very, very stupid escort, thinking she was even capable of love beyond the kind one bought temporarily and artificially when pressing coin into her hand. She knew better, of course, now. Too little, too late. Chasing that damn ring was going to be better left in someone else's hands.

Belidrae would have to pay handsomely for its retrieval and find someone who even did that kind of work.

Valerron pinched the bridge of his nose. "Given that I haven't received any letters from the family, I guess you're telling the truth." He certainly would have heard otherwise, even far into the uncomfortably cold reaches along with the rest of his unit of Farstriders. They weren't there on Farstrider business, but when he'd heard more hands were needed, he elected a few volunteers to go with him.

He had to admit, he was relieved to be home. Even if he was coming home to a sister who was nothing short of spoilt.

Some moments more of quiet, and when she began to slither past him, he found himself hesitating, as if he was afraid he'd touch her and the illusion of her appearance would simply break apart and shatter. But she passed with no incident and as he turned to watch the way she sauntered in that very deliberate way, that sway of her hips, he shook his head. She was going to get herself in trouble if she kept doing that. And he suspected she didn't care.

"You look like you're going somewhere," he continued.

Baring her teeth, sharp and even alike, Belidrae lifted a hand, flicked some curls of that bright blonde with nary a care. "Of course I am. I look this radiant and I should stay inside? No, no. Now that you're home, I think I'll be a little more irresponsible. But don't worry, I've kept your estate very tidy. I've earned a little down time, I think."

Laughing, the very sound, a little lyrical and even a little tight, echoed down the corridor as she moved, her skirts in the same shimmer sweeping about her long legs. "I'm sure there's a party going on somewhere and I intend to stay out late tonight. Brother dearest, don't come looking for me."

Left in the quiet of the hallway, Valerron shook his head. She was definitely going to get herself in trouble. She might have behaved whilst he was out, but he got the impression it wasn't going to stay that way for long. Maybe it was time to start writing some of the other families of Quel'Thalas. If she could keep up that appearance, they'd likely never need to know what she really was.

Maybe one of them would be foolish enough to consider courting her and keeping her out of harm's way.

Valerron Soulveil was a handsome man. Platinum blonde of hair, just like everyone else in their family. Tanned skin, likely because he so often spent time out under the sun. Bright eyes. He was decked out in what she could only describe as Farstrider gear. Bow worn carefully across his chest and half-stocked quiver strapped over one shoulder. In so many ways, he looked nearly the same as he had when they were considerably younger and her personal worries in the world were nonexistent. Or rather, the only thing she had to worry about was whether she could get away with skipping dinner and going right to dessert or not.

Twisting her body a bit more in the place where she had planted herself, she supported her chin lazily in the palm of her hand. “Hi,” she started. “Welcome home. I guess you’re here for your weekly visit? Taking stock of all of the food and wine I’ve been taking?”

His expression was a little hard, perhaps unamused, but she knew that was why he was there. Ever since she’d written to him about coming up north, she knew she was a burden. He’d offered his estate, advising that he didn’t really use it since he was often out in the field and while that was a good thing, it also meant he hadn’t really hired anyone to look after it. He visited it every so often and tended to the grounds himself, tidied things up. Theoretically, a perfect place for Belidrae to live. If she wanted it. Provided she kept it clean. And she… had. Mostly.

Valerron’s visits became more regular, more frequent, if only to make sure she had everything she needed. She didn’t know if he really understood why she was there. He hadn’t asked her for details. Hadn’t exactly pried into her. But maybe that was because when she had arrived, she had been in such an unrivalled rage that it was fairly obvious Belidrae had braved danger and potentially being taken into custody purely because she’d felt like there weren’t any other alternatives left.

At first, he said nothing. Then, moving from where he had stood so stiffly, he carefully removed the unnecessary accoutrements accenting him, placing them on a nearby chair, which Belidrae hadn’t found nearly as comfortable. Coercing her feet to shift, she pulled them up with a bend at her knees and from her side, she swapped to her back, leaving her open book with pages pressed to her chest. Curls of blackberry hair fell over the edges of the chaise and she realised that even in his quiet, she felt like she knew where this was going.

They’d always known each other so well. Probably better than they’d known their other siblings or even their parents. Belidrae loved Landris and Tynnan just as much, but she had come into the world so much later than them both that by the time she’d arrived, they were largely living their own separate lives. But Valerron… He’d always been there. Just like he continued to be there.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her then, a gentle raising of a brow in her direction.

It was a fair question. A hard one to answer. She was… living, she guessed. If living at the bare minimum meant eating, drinking, showering, sleeping, and trying to figure out how many of his books she could read and how quickly she could get through them all before reading everything again. And again. And… again. She was definitely living. She was just a prisoner in his estate. Was that really living? And it wasn’t like she had much in the way of options. Couldn’t go out without being completely covered and that had already garnered suspicion.

She thought of Soren, the knight who had come across her when she was trying to map out patrols of the forest. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t simply escorted her right out or imprisoned her, though she hadn’t committed any crimes that she was aware of. Instead, he urged her to her brother’s estate and made it somewhat clear to her that just because he wasn’t immediately inclined to assume she was a threat, the others he worked with and their other kin weren’t going to take as kindly to her.

Belidrae knew that. With her stone-like skin accented with shades of grey and purple, she wasn’t welcome there. It was the whole reason for why she ended up stuck in Valerron’s home to begin with. It was better not to tempt fate. She had only left a few times, one to thank Soren for escorting her, another to ask that he deliver a letter into the city on her behalf, and the last to compensate him for putting himself at risk. The letter itself had been innocent enough, but she understood his apprehension in passing correspondence. She didn’t think he’d read it, but he had every reason to think she was a spy or an informant.

…Saith had, after all. He’d said she would have made a good spy, even.

“I’m…” Belidrae swept the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, like she was trying to figure out how to condense all of her feelings into one. To the rest of the world, she wanted to keep things to herself. To Valerron, she felt like she could only trust him. Surely, he’d be the only person in the world who wouldn’t hurt her. “It’s hard,” she finally admitted. “I’m getting restless. I’m trying not to. And I know that if I just ask you to bring me books from the city or something, you will. But I… I want to do more than just read.” And that was saying a lot because Belidrae had always loved reading. When it was how she spent the majority of her time, however, it was becoming alarmingly boring.

“I could buy you new tailoring supplies?” he offered her. “Top of the line. Best quality. I can afford it.”

She shook her head, feeling her insides knot up as she considered the inn room down south that she had utterly trashed. There was a reason she’d left all of her materials there. She couldn’t even look at them. As long as she associated them with Grim and Tonic and its more-than-capable owner, she didn’t think she’d ever feel like designing another garment or textile again. Maybe, eventually, that would change, and she knew for the right person, for the right price even, she’d do it, but if she didn’t have to, she wasn’t going to. Her heart just wasn’t in it, despite how much talent and promise she might have had. Every time she thought about it, she wanted to vomit.

“No,” she said, so sharply that even Valerron wasn’t prepared for it. When she noticed his expression, her features almost immediately softened. “Sorry. I’m not trying to seem ungrateful. I’m just… I’m not ready to do that. I don’t know when I will be. If I ever will be.”

He looked, for some moments, like he was of the mind to say something. In the end, he remained quiet and instead, simply nodded slowly.

Belidrae lifted the book at her chest to her face where she hid beneath it. “When I was a kid, this kind of thing didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know what to do with my life or that I didn’t really have any skills. I just went into the city and went to parties and socialised. Now I can’t even do that. Not without an arcane cover-up. That won’t even last forever. I can’t do anything up here, but I can’t go back down there.”

It did matter, of course, though her brother was kind enough not to say that, she noticed. Belidrae knew it mattered. She’d done nothing except leech off of her parents for years. Made nothing useful of herself. Made no efforts to take classes or even express interest in much of anything. She just knew she didn’t want to follow in the footsteps of any of her brothers. There was no reason to when they had all of that covered, though surely in another timeline, in another continuity, she might have made for a good Farstrider herself.

It wasn’t just the indecision, however. Belidrae had struggled with the whispers from the very beginning. The Void terrified her and she had done everything she possibly could to distract herself when she could. But at night, she had terrible terrors and couldn’t ever get a proper rest. Not until Saith, anyway. Now she was back at it. No peace of mind. No peace of heart. The whispers grew louder, her paranoia increased, and she felt like she was in a constant state of anxiety. It was like having claws scrape along her insides repeatedly, hollowing her out until there would be nothing left.

She didn’t know how to stop any of that and it wasn’t something Valerron could help her with. She doubted very much there was going to be a Ren’dorei Anonymous support group all the way up north.

After some moments more of a heavy silence between them where Valerron had simply been left with what seemed like the remaining broken pieces of his sister, who once had been so full of life and love alike, his expression pulled, like he was trying to, as he often had, come up with a brilliant brotherly answer. Then he cleared his throat. “How about this—I’ll see what intel the Farstriders have. Request a task that I can handle without a unit. You’ll come with me. We’ll work on it together. You’ll be under my protection. I won’t let anyone harm you or expel you. It’ll give you something to do and maybe when we’re out and about, you’ll have time to think about what you want to do.”

Then his head tipped and he continued. “You’re not on a time limit, Bel. I’m not going to tell you that you have go back down south. You obviously don’t want to be there. I can’t get you into the city. But I can continue to make you as comfortable as possible. As long as you tell me what you need, I’ll get it for you.”

“I—” Belidrae paused a beat. The idea wasn’t terrible. She liked the notion of going somewhere with him. With just him. But there was the notion of the letter she’d sent Soren into the city with. And its recipient.

Kathis hadn’t replied. Not yet. She wasn’t sure he even would. They’d long since fallen out of touch after she’d turned and wasn’t allowed to return to her parents’ home. He was possibly an entirely different man. Even if he wasn’t, he had plenty of reasons not to want to see her. And considering the nature of their relationship, his marriage, quite possibly a family if he had children already or children on the way, it was frankly inappropriate. That had never stopped them to begin with, and Belidrae wasn’t even proposing that they reignite what once they’d had.

She only wanted to see him. Just once more. Maybe to hug him, if it wouldn’t hurt her too much.

“Can we wait a little? Not… long. A… a couple more weeks? A month?” she asked her brother then, understanding that by not explaining to him the reason why, he had nothing but incentive to turn her down.

She wasn’t good at lying. Anyone who knew her knew that. Valerron was no exception. His lips parted and whatever immediate response he had on his tongue was transparently bit back, as if his younger sister always tested the boundaries of his patience and diplomacy. In the end, he neither consented to nor denied her the request. “I’m still going to inquire. Until I have that information, you can do as you please. Just so long as you stay out of sight and don’t cause trouble.”

Casting a look around his sitting room and then towards the doorways, he began to make his way back to his feet. His estate was modest, but not unpleasant by any means. And… his sister had kept her end of things. She might have been restless, but it was evident that she kept everything in good order. Gesturing towards one of the open doorways, he directed his attention back onto Belidrae who was still hiding beneath her book.

“In the interim,” Valerron began, “I’ll take the sunroom and expand it. Let’s get you a bow. Set up some targets. I’ll teach you how to shoot properly. I’ll need you to have my back when we go out, after all.”

And more importantly, it would give her something to do. As Belidrae peered over the edge of her book to him, she felt her heart ache with appreciation. Valerron couldn’t possibly understand how things were or what they did to her, the circumstances, the nature of herself, how she could feel parts of herself be taken over by something she could neither stop nor control. But still he offered her everything he could to help her.

She didn’t have hope in her anymore. Couldn’t afford to. But in those moments, she hurt just a little less. Maybe that meant something.

She'd tried to ask a few, a scurrying mother who was carrying her child. One of the Blood Knights in full black and red and gold regalia. Even one of the Magisters, whose face was full of something she could only describe as being undeniably grim. But in the face of an emergency, that was to be expected.

Belidrae was still staring intently at the swirling mass of tumultuous Void centred right above where the Sunwell was when she was abruptly grabbed by the shoulder. Before she could really register what was going on, she was ushered brusquely into a nearby alleyway, free of onlookers, covered by the pretty sheer curtains of red. Her back met unforgiving stone harshly and she grimaced when ache rippled up along her spine.

"Unhand me—"

"No, you listen."

The rest of her words were halted at the very sight of her involuntary escort. All hard features and sunny hair, not unlike her own.

Ah. Valerron.

He had his bow slung over his shoulder and he was dressed in full uniform. Green and gold and impressive. But his expression said he was anything but pleased to see her. "You need to go back to the estate. It may not be safe in the city."

"You can't tell me that and not explain why," Belidrae countered. Lifting a hand, she gestured out to where there was no shortage of scattering people, looking for a place to take refuge. "What is happening and why can't I go with you?"

Valerron scowled. "The answer should be obvious. What combat experience do you really have? It's not as if you took practise seriously." But it was more than that, too. He fell back a few steps, gesturing towards her, "You know what you are. Even looking the way you do now doesn't change what you are on the inside."

She didn't agree with him. Her expression said it plainly, the way it twisted and contorted as she fought the war of saying what she really thought and trying to appease him as she often had growing up at his side. Or so she could have claimed. In truth, Belidrae had so infrequently listened to him, to any of her brothers, that maybe she had just a little too much of a free spirit.

"I'm still sin'dorei at my core," she rose her voice at him, feeling it begin to tighten. "I didn't choose this!" Her affliction. Being touched by the Void. "If you and parents had only—"

"Wrong," her brother corrected her sharply. "You look like a sin'dorei. And you may even act like one. Right now, you may look like one and you may even fool all of the other families within Silvermoon, but you are, undeniably, a creature of the Void. It doesn't matter if you intended that or not. The world doesn't run on intention, Belidrae. It runs on action. You made a stupid decision and you paid the price for it. You don't get to turn your back on that and you don't get to blame me, or the rest of our family."

Belidrae scraped her teeth over her bottom lip angrily, biting down into it and keeping whatever remaining words to herself, fearing that if she didn't, she'd either start screaming and causing even more of a spectacle, which quite possibly could have gone completely unnoticed considering the nature of the situation their city was currently in. Her scream surely would have been just one more in a proverbial sea of them.

Instead, she forced her gaze off of him, feeling the way her blood simmered and boiled beneath her skin. She could do plenty. She had enough control over herself, didn't she? She could have gone to Quel'Danas with him. But if she did, she wouldn't be able to hide what she was or what she did. If things were as dire as they seemed, however, and if they were facing things of the Void, who better to have than someone who was well-acquainted with them?

"No matter how much you think you're on control," Valerron continued, losing some of the edge in his tone, though he remained even and composed as he carefully drew the bow he had over his shoulder into hand. "You're a liability. I hear the way you toss and turn at night. I hear the way you still have nightmares. I can't begin to assume what you dream about or what it's like having a mess living inside your head the way you do, but this isn't me being cruel. I'm trying to protect you. If you get too close, if you do something else stupid, I can't talk anyone out of apprehending you. So don't invite trouble."

'For once.' He didn't say it, but he didn't have to. The heavy implication was there.

Valerron reached back over to her, setting hand to her shoulder and giving her a little bit of a shake, like he was trying to bring her back to the present moment. "Understand? Go back to the estate. Let the people who were made for this handle it. At least as much as we can. I'll come home as quickly as I'm able and I'll give you an update. But for the love of the Light, stay the fuck inside."

And then just like that, he was gone, the sharp turn, the view of his back, as he dashed back out onto the streets and in the direction of the span that would lead him right back to the far northern isle. She still ached from where he'd grabbed her and as Belidrae watched him fade into the distance, she ignored the others who ran past her.

He thought she was a liability. A liability? What an awful thing to hear. What an awful thing for a brother to tell his sister. She deserved better. It hadn't been entirely her fault. All she'd been trying to do was support herself. It was a paying job. She needed coin. Instead of trying to leech off of the family, Belidrae had been trying to survive.

She'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time. How was she to have known things would go the way they had? It wasn't like she had the power of foresight. And certainly, it wasn't the smartest thing she'd done, but she didn't think it was worth being called a liability over.

All she wanted to do was help him. Did she even need his permission to do so?

Valerron had never stopped her before. As her gaze sharpened and she felt that warmth in her blood rise again, all of those juvenile feelings of spite and the need to prove her worth, she knew he certainly wasn't going to stop her this time either.

Saith — I once thought to myself that inherently, all hearts were good. That though we make mistakes, say and do things we regret, that in remorse we’re not irredeemable. I don’t think you’re irredeemable either. I do think you’re cruel. I’m writing this and I will never send it, so I guess I’m doing it out of some misplaced attempt to lessen how much I hurt. That’s not really a word I use. Being hurt. People, on occasion, have annoyed me. Maybe even frustrated me. But you are the only person I’ve ever known who has actively hurt me in a way that I tried so hard to avoid. It feels like so many of our conversations were pointless. You wanted me to defy the odds, though you understood, or seemed to, why I lived the way I did. Why I was so apprehensive to become involved with you. You didn’t want me to continue doing what I was. Always told me you wanted to take care of me. To give me something better than living out on the streets and selling myself. Yet here I am, right back to where I was when first we met. The only that’s changed is how I feel. About you. About the world. About people in general. If I ever thought to trust someone, I never will again. You’ve educated me, maybe not in the way you intended to, but you did nevertheless. Congratulations to you, I guess. Maybe you went through all of that just because you were savage enough to want to see me suffer. Or maybe you, being so good at lying, just lied to me the entire time. Who the hell knows. You’ve touched my life in ways that can’t be undone, but at least we had some moments of happiness. Maybe. If they weren’t all delusions I made up in my mind. Whatever we had then, however, whatever I had, there’s nothing there now. It’s just empty. Just like me. Thank you, for such a wonderful gift and showing me the truth of the world and the people in it. Because of you, I can now see what a fool I was. And what a fool I won't be again. — Belidrae

If she'd had direction in her life, if she'd known what she wanted, or perhaps if she'd listened to her parents when they wanted her to follow in at least one of the footsteps that her brothers had set before her, she had to admit that her life probably wouldn't have turned out as screwed up as it had.

Instead, she had continued down her pathway of irresponsibility. Minutely. In a way, she supposed that doing manual labour for those studying the Void, she had been at least trying to do something. The irony that she was trying to spend money that was her own and not her parents' leading her down a path of ruin was not lost on her. All she wanted to do was return home.

South of Quel'thalas had no friends for her. With Saith gone, she truly had nothing. And every time coin crossed her palm for her company, she just felt empty and increasingly bitter. She smiled and put on a show for the rest of the world, so good at putting aside her own feelings, especially when it came to acquaintances and clients, but the more she did that, the angrier she felt. Hurt. Resigned.

She hated Saith. She hated him so much for what he'd done. Giving her a taste of a life that she could have had, only to rip it away from her without so much as a goodbye or a note or anything. At night, in her dreams, surely manifested by Void-touched whispers, she fantasised about all of the ways she could hurt him. He deserved that. And more.

Belidrae didn't like what that was doing to her. She didn't like what that was turning her into.

Keltherion's conversation, his prying questions interspersed with his kind ideas of boarding houses for the downtrodden and his tantalising ideas of moving with his son out to Suramar had brought so much of that up from a place where she'd tried to ignore it.

She wanted to go home so badly. She never wanted to see Stormwind again or any of the people there. She never wanted to think about that place again or anything that had ever happened within those stone walls and pathways. And she knew that if she wrote Valerron, if she explained and even if she didn't, he wouldn't have hesitated a beat. Her parents might not have been willing to accept her, but he still would.

At least she still had a home to go to, though the notion hardly did anything to ease the ache in her heart.

In the inn room that she had seen so many times, she eyed the box that had held the ring, a family heirloom, she'd given to Saith after he'd asked her to be his wife. How bitterly amusing it was after she'd asked for it, given it, he'd simply made off with it. And with her heart.

Looking at everything in that room pissed her off. The longer she looked, the angrier she got. But before she was inclined to throw things, to tip things over, to knock her designs-in-progress to the floor, Belidrae decided it would just be better to leave. A letter would have been polite, but she'd never restrained herself to what was polite.